Judgement in unforeseen consequences
by Dontai
Summary: Once the dark lord of the sith, now his faith has been shaken. Vader is set on a dark path that will lead to vengeance and beyond. The future is unset and will anything remain of the dark lord


Judgement in unforeseen consequences

He watches from the ageless void

Enlightened shadow of his former self

Waiting for the time he'll take human form again

To avenge the victims of the war machine; and vanquish the evil that gave it life

He is Death, the dark messiah, and Hell followed with him...

"Arise," the Emperor commands prompting Vader to stand up. Finally, he impatiently thought, his back was killing him. Kneeling on the floor causes his aches, from which he could never escape, to become worse. The heavy weight of suit was crushing him, even after learning to deal with it. The Emperor continues saying, "There has been a secret project on the plan Jungus II for the last thirty years. It is of the upmost importance that this project remains a secret." For just a second the room had an oppressive atmosphere, like all the hope had been suck out. Even the lights seem to be a little dimmer and the colors a little less vibrant. Something he had become accustoms too being in service of the Emperor for over a decade. The dark side had unnatural effect on the Psyche of most living things. He once compared it to having adverse reaction on mind altering drugs.

Vader shakes off his thoughts and refocus on the image of the Emperor, "I would have no need to hear of such a world."

"As you shouldn't, I don't expect you to keep an eye on every single world in the galactic empire, best to leave imperial governors to that. This world would not even be a concern if not for sensitive nature of the world and its research."

"I have felt a disturbance in the force on planet we now orbit. What makes this world so valuable?" Up until this point, Vader was disinterested with the mission, just another world with scientist squabbling over their insignificant sciences. He never understood why the Emperor put such faith in science, better to put his faith in the force.

"This discovery must never become public knowledge. Thirty years ago the Bleconnion Mining corp. had sent in expedition to the world. They discovered in alien craft not native to any world in the galactic core or the rim worlds, not even ancient text of the Jedi and Sith have records of them. Which is impossible because the Sith have a vast knowledge and records from millions of worlds going back before interstellar travel and hyperdrive. One ship, on one planet, never discovered on any other planet since then."

"So, it's a mystery? What makes it so valuable," Vader asks again more instant on an answer?

"It's more advanced than anything we have. Many of the religion that dominates this universe see us as the dominate species, the first to develop. It leaves the question of what was their role in our universe. How do they fit in and where do the pieces fit. Regardless, that form of technology can't end up in the hands of the rebellion. Discover the fate of the research team."

"Yes, my master," was all Vader replied before giving a silent pause. "What of the rebels?"

"They are of little consequence." The Emperor's image faded away and Vader moves to a nearby console. There was audible static as the intercom turned on, "General Guieers, has there been any word from the surface?"

"No, it's been completely silent." Vader was leaning against the wall close to the speaker.

"It could be mechanical failure, send down a reconnaissance force. They may have a faulty transmitter."

Second later he heard, "Right away my lord." The communication clicked off.

The planet's atmosphere was oppressive, hot and humid. "The records said this was an ice planet. Minus 20°C degrees, subzero with wind chills. So what was affecting the weather? Get in contact with Hansonfeild." The words were spoken by Darniar who was not a clone, not a soldier, but a forced recruit He had been stationed on the Tarsona retraining center for civilians and storm troopers. It was good job, he liked it. All he had to do was study the history of warfare, observe the clones in action, and study the latest fighting techniques over the holonet. But his training made him uniquely qualified to lead hollow men. He had seen some of the old clones just past their prime, fidgety as all hell, seeing things, suffering the worst case of dementia you ever saw. All of them were uniquely more dangerous to their own side and the person leading them. They would suffer flash backs to previous campaigns, forget what battle they were fighting. One time in basic, this clone thought he was fighting the geonosians and ended up killing three troopers and a civilian. Well no, not just any civilian, his girlfriend. They had been going steady for nearly three months before she took a blaster to the gut and died in his arms.

Fucking empire … He had to put the clone down himself before the clone got him. He had no idea why the Empire let them live. This group wasn't too bad, except for clone 6328. He kept looking over his shoulder for old ghosts. Swore he kept hearing "clanking" sounds.

They were in a sprawling prefab town that was surrounded by rolling green fields. The few buildings in the outskirts of town had signs of blaster fire. "Hello," he screams out with the only reply being his voice echoing back, nothing else. "The town isn't supposed to be this quite. Check that house." He says pointing towards the closest structure.

The clone came back a moment later, "There's no sign of anyone. No bodies, no blood, no survivors. Signs of intense combat, the shootings are inaccurate and erratic." A moment past and they had swept the entire block. Then there was the sound of weapon's fire. He charged in and found two storm troopers gutted. He found a young man holding a Syrachi war sword stained with fresh blood, around the corner that divided the living room.

"Lower the sword citizen," he orders. The man ignores him forcing him to fire, before the man could kill him. Around the supposedly fatal wound, the man's flesh begins to swirl, body becoming distorted until nothing recognizable remained. What was left was a nightmare, one he wouldn't face. Hell with the repercussion for desertion. He ran and never looked back.

Vader felt the scout party death before the news arrived. He was already heading for the shuttle with an armed squad in tow. They landed besides the original shuttle and disembarked. Vader walks over to inspect the other shuttle finding that it had been vandalized and surrounded by footprints, civilian shoes not military boots. Someone had scrawled: Korn offers absolution, Nurgle offers rebirth, Slaanesh offers forgiveness, but Tzeentch will never forgive nor forget. He is watching ...

"What does that mean," Vaders says to himself staring at the writing in hopes of a sudden insight. He can see a faint echo through the force, a man covered in blood writing it. Nothing about this world makes sense, not the weather and not the citizens. "If Tzeentch is responsible for this planets rebellious nature and disrespect to imperial property, he must be dealt with accordingly."

He notices out of the corner of his eye a woman basking in the sunlight. She had a slender flat face with pointy ears and lithe body. Vader orders her to identify herself, brazenly, she ignores him. Vader reaches out to her through the force but he can't seem to make the connection. The force seems to tremble in the presence of something so seemingly alien and unnatural.

"Such primitive life magic, I'm Taldireen storm talon, farseer. I come to warn you about them." She points up at the sky, which buckles and cracks open, fire spilling out envelops the world and demons pour from the rift.

"Is that what you call the force," Vader asks curiously?

"We had such thing eons ago, the ability to control the music of the universe, the life force of the cosmos; the understanding of the life force that binds all living things together. Such things pale in comparison to us now. You're a young species compared …"

"… To you," Vader finish for her and feeling seemingly intoxicated by her presence.

"Yes, whatever you once were, what you were studying, it eventually leads to us. But such primitive abilities no longer affect us."

"How can you know this," he asks getting closer to her but not making any threatening gestures, not yet at least. "We have been studying the force since the beginning of our universe."

"Because we were just like you, once," she replies. "The music is much older than you … Sith." She pauses at the word Sith, almost confused by its meaning and implication. Continuing saying, "This universe's music is … different, stronger somehow. It's begging for you to listen because it has become sick from all the wars and fighting. The deaths are like a cancer; your music is sick and dying. It's tries to cry out but it can't understand me. It doesn't recognize me for I'm a phantom, mere shadow in this universe." The woman seems to tremble like a distorted image as she speaks. "That is why your force can't affect me. I will show you the true music." Vader had a feeling of blood rushing to his head, the sudden expanding of his mind and the gaining of greater understanding of the force. For the briefest of seconds, he saw the past, the present, and the future. He saw the lives of every living thing that ever existed or ever will. He felt himself living their lives, feeling their hopes, and their fears. For all intents and purposes, he was a god. Then he was small again and trapped within the confines of his metal shell and the woman had vanished.

Lord Vader asks hoping she was around but just out of sight, "What are you?"

On the bridge I.S.S Reverent, Lord Vader heard his name being called out causing him to turn around and look around the bridge. He scans the room and then asks if anyone had called his name. The crew members looked amongst each other with blank stares. He refocuses back on the observation window, and right when his mind finally went into a lull and he found peace, he heard it again. He knew someone had said it, but when he spun around there was no one to confront. Despite searching the bridge, he can't see the person whispering. "Come to me," the voice seems to be far off and distant, impossible to locate. "The Emperor lies, he killed Padmé."

"No," Vader screams, "you lie!"

Everyone looks up at him alarmed. In a fit of rage he screams, "Back to your stations."

The men obey without question and return to their duties. Now he hears knocking or a rapid tapping sound ... "Who is doing that?"

"No one, my Lord," general Guieers says coming up from behind him.

"Search this ship," Vader says directly to him. His words were deliberately vague and dismissive; he had no idea what he was looking for.

"For what," he asks? It was an obvious question that had to be asked.

"I don't know," Vader says to himself with a sigh of frustration "Something is out of place." For once, Vader fears couldn't be alleviated by the force because it was deathly silent. As if the force was abandoning him.

"Eldar," chapter captain Vowlune says not the least bit surprised and with the normal amount of disdain. He encounters them quite frequently, even on his home world. "My chapter lays slain on the battlefield, have you come to deliver grievous insult to injury?"

The Eldar was female with a lithe frame and silky blond hair that flows down around her slender face. He found her very attractive, but wasn't willing to admit it since thinking such thing was blasphemous. Still there was a primordial urge there, to break the shackles his people put upon him and turn his back on past indiscretions. She tosses the human a data pad. "I've come to save an entire universe." She turns to leave and he raises his weapon. He feels his finger hovering over the trigger, slowly slipping, but contrary to his instincts, he lets her leave in peace. The vox communicator beeps, "Battle barge Relentless, we offering reinforcements."

"Your late," he says irritated and not the least bit disappointed by their untimely arrival. Anger forces him to look around at the mound of ork and space-marine bodies that were piled around him.

"Eldar are now reporting chaos. They sent us these coordinates." He threw the datapad down on the table. "That's a curiosity worth investigating."

A balding Caucasian man with a protruding chin and dark hair, who had been in relaxed state, leans forward saying, "Since when are we in the business of working for the Eldar. More to the point, you have no authority here. I'm sorry about your men, but you don't."

"I wouldn't have to ask for help if we could rely on the other chapters. I'll assure you that the terran council will know of this. Right now, I only have you fools to work with seeing that you let my entire division get wiped out by the green skins."

"How pray tell are you alive? We never thought to question that?" The balding man was now acting extremely aggressive and Vowlune had no choice but to respond in kind; it was almost instinct with growing up in one of the lower city gangs. Anyone who stepped on your turf had to be driven off and made example out of them. Less some poor decide to follow suit and their example. If someone challenges you, never show a sign of weakness. His first reaction could be his last. His instincts cried out to jump the guy and smash his face into the deck. But, it would only make matters worse and that's also not how a space-marine acts.

"Is the fact I'm a space-marine not enough? Now you need to make sure I'm not pulling out of some sorcery? It shows your chapter lack of courage or resilience. Two hundred orks charge me, survivors of the bulk that was wiped out by our defenses but I alone did not thin out their numbers. It was down to me and forty to fifty wounded orcs, many badly burned or injured. I'm saddened to say I was not behind the frontlines, because that would ease my guilt and shame for being alive."

A white haired man with sunken cheeks, square jawline, and a flat beaked nose leans in on the argument. He wore a grey -blue jumpsuit and shoulder-pads that look like open books. "Enough you two, Derringer, we treat the other battle brothers with the respect they deserve. If you do otherwise, I will put you on report. We may not be in the business of working for the Eldar, but if their pissed enough at chaos to come to us for help, it has to be severe. It must be taken as such."

Vowlune stands up to address them, "Don't underestimate the Eldar. They are cunning and deceitful race equal too, if not, stronger than the Imperium. They are as worthy foes as you're going to find and some question whether we should even be at war with them, with so many other devil afoot. We are angel of death bringing ruin to enemies no matter where they are."

A grey haired man, much like the one already sitting down, except for his haggard face, deep set eyes underneath a large brow and wide cheeks, takes a step inside. "Vowlune may not be in charge here, Derringer, but I am. You would be wise not to forget that."

The balding man face went pale and visibly shrunk under the newcomer, "Yes, chapter master."

"I am Darzhen Vladislav," the newcomer says "chapter master. I fought the Eldar countless times. By now it surely must have been in the thousands. They are inquisitive and unpredictable opponent; it makes them an extremely deadly foe. I would not dismiss their claims so quickly. They know more about our universe than any other race, but they choose not to reveal it unless it suits their own ends. We'll surely find a trap, but as Vowlune said, we are angels of death. We don't back down and we don't run. Death is our greatest reward; it's the ability to escape from this endless repetitive life."

All the report recoverable from before the Dark Age put this planet as an arid frozen wasteland. Instead, what they found was a tropical hell in the unexplored space known as the badlands. The world was once a sprawling industrial world with many hive spires. It now lays forgotten for several millenniums and with no outbound detection; they had been expecting to stay lost. Kazakh Zakhir was the chapter's librarian and along with Vowlune, led the scout parties on the surface. Their boot had been the first non-corrupted space marine boots to ever touch this planet. This place felt almost wrong, it was like he strayed into the forbidden zone and was walking through the valley of the shadow of death. Even wearing the bulky form of the navy blue Mark VII Aquila pattern power armor brought him no comfort. "We shouldn't be here," he whispers to himself to not be over heard and huddles against his staff. His hopes to keep his fears to himself went nowhere.

"I fear the same. This place is unnatural. The very air is stifling. I feel like a shadow looms over us." He turns to face the man with looks of concerned for his marine brother from another chapter.

"This place is wrong. We shouldn't be here. This place will be are graves. The Eldar were right, this place must be destroyed. Its very existence is abomination. I'm sure you feel it, it's the death of hope, the feeling of the very joy being robbed from our last dying breaths."

He watches Vowlune survey the rolling ashen fields, which looks a like a recent war had taken place, and asking him what he senses. He feels the world rushing back to him, "Chaos ... I detected no open portals, but I'm detecting a strong chaos presence."

Off to his left standing proudly, but deathly silent, surveying the area was Damon Darzog, a chapter captain assigned to the scout force and a direct liaison to the chapter. "Your deathly silent," he aks

The man pays him a glance and shutters. The captain responds, "It this place. I can feel the end; it's a noose closing around my throat. Let's be done with this place." He hears the first order given by Damon, "Relentless, land all available companies, pacifying operations." Then the captain turns to face a scout squad member who had returned from their mission. The lead scout marine barely look old enough to hold a weapon or drink a beer, not even close to being a space-marine.

"I need the truth, strait," says Damon.

The scout shows sign of nervousness and eagerness for combat. His words were sloppy and rushed, caught between wheezing gasp. "I would recommend exterminatus if not for one tidbit of information. In the northern most continent is an artifact that appeared quite recently. All four chaos gods have set up shop and relentlessly fight over the artifact with neither side escalating to ensure victory."

"Very good scout, if this artifact is what's threatening the entire universe, it must be dealt with." He opened a channel through the relentless to all ground forces, "All ground companies converge on the artifact, relaying coordinates."

Scouts had the unfortunate task of crawling through the ruins of an exterminates looking for any signs of life. Gabriel was use to the reek of burnt flesh, but no matter how many times he had smelled it, still stunk. They had preemptively purged the area with fire from high orbit before sending out the scouts to assess the damage.

Gabriel was standing on a small hill that slopes away to the south. There were scattered signs of the military in the area, sandbags, tank traps, and even barbwire all of which was destroyed in the bombardment. Amongst the rubble were charred skeleton holding remain of old weapons, much older than the stuff seen in recent wars. There were no signs of structures, not even military, just fortifications. They followed a destroyed road much deeper in until they came across the ruins of several single story civilian structures; they were blasted to oblivion. From this point, he could see the ruins of a hive city that was reduced to thousands upon thousands of meters of rubble piled up into the sky. The first hundred layers of rubble had been completely blown off from the orbital bombardment. This planet only had a few remaining hive cities and half of those had collapsed hundreds of years ago from neglect or from being bombed to oblivion. There was an intact highway leading into the city. He found it amusing the fact that hive cities always had a sudden drop off where the multilevel complex would end.

Upon reaching the first level, amongst the ruins were signs of life. They were wearing civilian garbs, equipped with only the most basic weapons and no armor. They covered their face to shield them from the fumes and dust. He waited to see what they were going to do. They had no intention of sticking around the old ruins, after scavenging what they could, they left. He followed them until he found a path leading up through the collapsed upper section. From there he found another usable road section leading through the upper most levels. He found a portal covering most of the upper level, shimmering like the sun's reflection in a lake. On the left side next to a collapsed wall was host of blood letters several hundred strong along with several hundred civilians and corrupted imperial guardsmen. On the other side was a host twice the size of screamers and horrors and just as many guardsmen. To the north were literally thousands of Plaguebearers arguing amongst themselves. There were so many that you couldn't even count them all. "Brother Gabriel," he says in a hush tone over his vox "all sides are ensuring that no other god claims it."

He heard his vox come alive, "were inbound." There was high pitch winning noise follow by low incoming whistling. He knew the sound before he saw it: it was the sound of Vengeance Missiles. The volley was massive and devastating, even the undead, gibbering plaguerbearers barely had any surviving members. What a sight to see as those thunder hawkes dropped off land raiders and predator-mainline-battle tanks on top of the surviving enemies. There truly was no kind of firepower like overwhelming firepower. The remaining survivors scattered or retreated, he wasn't sure which and he didn't care either. Gabriel and Vowlune greeted each other and shook hands. "You and the other scouts did well. We'll take it from here."

Once the scout had left, Vowlune got his first good look at … whatever it was. Normal warp portals looked fiery red with arching blue electricity. This was completely different. The outside of the portal looked like it was made of water, but certain parts of it were like glass that had broken off. He got one hell of a startle when the portal rapidly expanded outward and contracted back to its original size.

"What do we got here," the librarian says coming up from behind him, taking off his helmet, and holding it next to his waist.

"You're the man from before, you were at the meeting. You stood up for me." Once he saw the man's face without his helmet, he recognized the sunken cheeks, square jawline, and a flat beaked nose. "How did you get that scar?"

"When I was much younger, one of the member betrayed the chapter, fell to chaos. I was seeking some forbidden knowledge. Gullible young me thought it could benefit the chapter. It turns out he was thinking the same thing. I was staring down at this tome fascinated; I'm not sure how I saw it coming. I was lucky it wasn't a chainsword. I saw him lunging with a large regular knife and barely had enough time to avoid the blade. It split my cheek open."

"So what happen to him?"

"I cooked that son of a bitch alive," The librarian replies with a chuckle. "My name is Kazakh."

He nodded with interest, "You're a librarian. So what the hell is this?

Kazakh scratched his chin, "No fucking idea, but I'll tell what it's not, a chaos portal."

Vowlune shifts his armor's weight allowing him to take a better look; eventually he removes his helmet with a particular scratch from an ork chopper. He makes a disgruntle face when he notices it. The sight hurts him and he quickly finds something to take his mind off of it. "You think it's safe to touch?"

"You're fucking kidding. That thing could melt your face off."

He put his hands on his hip and starts kicking the ground saying, "nothing ventured, nothing lost."

"More like everything lost. I would prefer knowing what it is before messing with it."

Vowlune gives a genuine laugh, "I love taking risks. You coming?" He asks taking a step and being swallowed up by the portal.

The four AT-STs plus a small recon force made up of criminals wearing outdated storm trooper armor had arrived ahead of the main assault force. They, along with the orbiting star destroyer, were instructed to create a perimeter around the crashed ship keeping the escaping inhabitants contained within. The inhabitants had at first been simple humans, nothing unheard of. The human were clad in old flak jacket armed with laser rifles much similar to their own weapons. They were the lost, the damned, the forgotten, the downtrodden, and the drudge of society. This particular group was once imperial citizens and their outdated and heavily in disrepair las-guns tore through the convict's armor like tissue paper. Amongst the guardsmen were tank hunters packing a very effective shape charge missile based delivery system. It could easily cause an AT-ST to explode in a massive fireball and send deadly shrapnel raining down around any convicts unlucky enough to be nearby. The invader momentary victory was short lived however. As high orbit TIE bombers dropped massive proton bombs spreading a deadly dose of radiation amongst their ranks. Seconds later transports landed entire companies of storm troopers. They had in minutes pounded the enemy into the ground. The area seemed contained for the moment, but then the next wave had turned out to be horrific winged beasts looking like enormous human skull with wings of a bat and tusk protruding from the eye sockets along with bizarre beast-men. The battlefield and even the entire fate of the planet had change in an instant...

The unnecessary escalating on the Empire's part had brought the attention of metal goliaths, steel men. Their suits of armor were purple with a gold trim and covered in golden spikes. Their helmet was painted white to resemble a skull, ornamental paper adorns the armor. They were caring heavy weapon: heavy bolters and assault cannons. The storm trooper blasters proved ineffective flashing molten red before fizzling out. Darth Vader's reinforcements brought heaver weapons: E-web heavy repeating cannon, AT-ATs, and finally the dark lord himself. Vader had to call upon the force to survive his first up close encounter with a bolter. He didn't dispatch his foe too quickly; first he wanted to study them, coming to understand his new enemy. Then effortlessly, despite the force physically recoiling from the unnatural soldiers, he lifts his assailant off of the ground and snaps his neck. The dark lord would have no equal and despite their best effort, they paled in comparison to the force. Darth Vader executed anyone that got in his way as he follows a narrow path south. The road lead past a small collections of prefab structures hastily constructed around a much large structure.

A whither old man with a lean, slanted, bird like face and deep seated large eyes steps forward. He was barely standing with his frail legs. "You think you're strong and that you alone shape the very fate of universe? Even the Dark Lord will have his day. Now I'll give the devil his due."

Vader voice was slow, methodical, and carried over the sound of his respirator. He was a man of few words who would normally never waste his time on such insignificant man, so small in the grand scheme of things, daring to step forward. "You're the one who will deliver it? You, some insignificant nobody, under the heel of the true power in this universe, are going to oppose me? You're just one small man in a vast universe that he can't understand."

"It is you who doesn't understand. Their very fate of universe is being shaped and soon, even you will no longer be a part of shaping it."

"I have no time for your words," Vader says.

The man stepped aside, "By the end of this day your faith will be shaken. You will have to make a choice." Vader turns to walk away but notices right away that the man had vanished. He hadn't walked away, he didn't slip away, he was just gone. Vader search the area for him confused, but the man had completely vanished beyond his ability to find him. The man had left him a holorecord on the ground which he stoops down to pick up.

"Lunar date 4bby XX223 - Progress report for Bleconnion Mining corp. John Blackman Smith. Reports of Duranium, though unconfirmed, still proven indirectly profitable. As in my original report, the initial search for Duranium proved fruitless. We set up a large colony and brought vast amounts of equipment to planet surface. It was three days before an unexplained massive power-surge caused the fusion reactor to go critical. The resulting explosion was in the megatons, destroying a good portion of the colony, and doing over 400 billion credits worth of damage. It had unexpected consequence though, it uncovered an alien facility. At least that's what we thought it was at first, turns out it's an alien spacecraft that crashed here nearly 44 million years ago by all the experts' accounts. How could a ship survive the impact and then survive the deterioration for so long? This fine could make us billions in credits, hell it could even end the civil war and destroy the rebellion. I'll contact the Authorities to set up the minimal permits to prevent any backlash from our finding. If the authorities found out we were hiding this, we could all be executed or worse, end up in a prison facility. I don't know what cruel things go on in those facilities and I'm in no hurry to find out. Drilling out the outer shell was easy, but the internal structure was nearly impossible. Some form of intense heat fused the rock structure to the ship encasing the main engine room in a nearly solid stone block. There sending a massive slave labor force to help out. I heard their bringing wookiees."

Vader stared ahead at the massive u shape descending from a massive half-mile excavation dug out of the ground. A vast eight hundred meter long concrete, plastisteel, duranium structure had been built around the entrance to the craft and it was still nothing compare to space craft which easily dwarfed the largest volcano on the planet. Even Vader felt humble and worried by this finding. He could order the ship to be destroyed, but if they ever returned, ignorance could prove their undoing. The empire had nothing comparable to this.

He steps forward into minimal security facility where the few guards were dead along with a few dead scientists ... they had been shot from behind. Vade took moment to study the scene. They had mange to cross the bridge that connects the divide before being gun down, the spacing of the footprint show they were fleeing. The fact they were face down in the dirt means they never looked back. The reason for this was unclear. If the attack was from an outside source, they would be fleeing deeper inside and not the other way around. Whatever happened, it happened inside. He would come face to face with the source of the disturbance.

...

Vowlune found himself in a dark, large concrete room surround by lab equipment that continues to belch out data. The closest visible room was filled with many shelves lined with beakers. This place looks like a lab, but he didn't remember how he got there? "Where are we?" The question was directed at the Liberian who he was certain followed him in.

"I have no idea, the last thing I remember is you taking the fools step." You can hear the irritation in the librarian's voice. "You could have gotten us killed."

"You're alive aren't you? Now could this be the warp," he asks curious?

The librarian shook his head, "Impossible, we would be dead. What does this do?" He was showing curiosity for the first time touching a button next to a frozen screen showing a young man with brown hair. The screen comes to life,

"We've been working around the clock using plasma torches to burn the rock and clean out the residual rubble. I thought we had it all figured out how to safely remove the rock from around the walls and electronic. We found a way and it turns out the old fashion way was best. We lost a lot of slaves digging out the rock. Once the rock was cleared thousands of technician arrived and the city sprung up overnight. You know they're planning to name it after me? There's going to be a massive conference covering every form technology and viable application. A famous crackpot calming to be a scientist from Corulag had arrived for the conference. It's hard to trust any of them with so many crackpots like him out there. You believe he thinks that life was created by sentient robots from out of our galaxy? Found all kind of proof apparently. That man had no theories about the craft, completely clueless. Turns out he understood technology enough to crack it the security system.

I still remember the big news, the cheering throughout the facility, the jealousy I felt for that scumbag from Corulag; taking all the glory for himself, the self-proclaim god. A few hours after he get the ship turned on, he barges into my office worried. The ship was damaged and turning the power on must have activate a system. I remember seeing the portal for the first time, I knew we we're fucked up. While we were in room large enough to hold Acclamator-class, several of them in fact, it dawns on me that they use these portals to go home without leaving the ship, indefinitely able to supply ship. I realize right then, we're dealing with intelligence on a horrifying level. We tried to close it down but we could never find the power source. The first sign of trouble was the wookies. They get riley sometimes, but this wookie became savage. It attacked the guards. Even with a squad of storm troopers emptying blaster bolts into its thick hide, it refuses to die. It seems infectious because one by one the wookies seem to have gone insane; started carving strange symbols into their body and chanting, singing praise to unseen deities. Then Trandoshans slave master started becoming irritable and paranoid. They start mass killing to the point we had to order storm troopers to restore order. Then the storm troopers turned against us. Fighting broke out all over the colony. Then they came, nightmares manifested: Sharp, needle-like teeth in slavering jaws, serpentine tongue constantly flickers , rippling muscles lie barely concealed beneath its scaly red hide, knotted sinews giving incredible strength. With the fighting, we didn't have the force to stop them. Than people start changing, going crazy. They become mindless beast ravaging the colony. Some started worshiping the hell beasts. I had to call the emperor. We're down to five guys out of two thousands."

"It seems we know what happened here," Kazakh says grimly after the video finish. "They were messing with the fire of the gods. Now chaos has come and claimed the souls of all who worked here."

"What is the answer to corruption," he states knowing the answer but still wanting to hear from someone else.

"Purge with fire," Kazakh replies with one-hundred percent conviction "we must purge the filth from this world. We must get reinforcements and return." They were about to leave when a tall cyborg dressed in black and wearing a cape enters the room. The hulking Goliath wasn't amused and his respirator could be heard, breathing slow but steady. Kazakh was first, dragged off of the ground by unseen force, he suspect the cyborg was the cause. "Drop him," Vowlune screams raising his bolters. If the cyborg was concerned, either he couldn't tell or he was really good at hiding it.

"Identify your selves," the cyborg demanded under wheezing gasps.

"Fourth company space-marines. We come to purge this world of chaos!"

"You're on the imperial planet, a planet of the galactic empire, Jungus in the Cro'vuar system." The cyborg hadn't moved a muscle since he entered the room and he had no visible feature to judge his mood. But he did lower the marine who collapsed to the ground gasping for air.

"There was artifact, a weird shimmering thing..."

"I'm here to destroy it," the cyborg said immediately.

"We're not here to interfere; at least we now know what it does."

"I entrust you will return from where you came from. This facility will be destroyed." The cyborg said no more and in a graceful gait, left the room.

...

Darzhen comes in clearly aggravated by the delays, "what is the fucking hold up? I needed that artifact secured hours ago."

"This artifact is a door way," Vowlune says astonished. "I'm not sure if we can even move it. Anything that touches it gets transported."

"What," he says "a portal to the warp?"

"No, to another planet. We met sorcerer cyborg, a tall man in black. I don't know if we can trust him, either way, we can't move the artifact. Which means it must be destroyed."

No captain should called exterminatus lightly, it's shouldn't be easy to justify death of so many people. Darzhen found the decision easier, but it still left a not in his stomach, like his balls were in a vice. A single ship wasn't capable of leveling an entire planet but it could level a continent. So it fell on him to complete the grim task of using conventional weapons to completely level the entire northern continent. Darzhen was furious to learn that, despite the entire area around the portal burning, the artifact remained. In bridge, he stares down at the reading of the artifact which was almost mocking him in defiance. "If we can't shut down the gate then both sides are threaten. We need to call in a warp specialist." Those words were spoken grimly by Vowlume and he didn't speak them lightly. Chaos still lurks in the shadow and around every corner. They stamped them out like cockroaches with a surprise attack but roaches always return. The prize was right in front of their face: a world ripe for the picking, a harvest of boundless souls.

...

Lord Vader sees thousands of twinkles in the atmosphere from turbo-laser fire descending from the heavens. "Magnify," he orders. Sure enough the industrial lab had been completely destroyed, but even after millions of years of decay to weaken the craft, the turbo lasers had no effect on the spacecraft. "Continuous volley for next twenty four hours. Let me know if the situation changes"

...

The flight deck was the only place in the ship largest enough to hold entire company and this scientist's briefing was for every man and woman on board the relentless. The expert wore multiple layers of leather draped over metal shoulder pads, each pad containing the Gothic twin-headed eagle gleaming in real gold. The scientist had a full head of hair but it was starting to go gray and he did nothing to fix it. His face supports a crooked smile and two very small cheeks that did little to fill out his slender face. The collar of his shirt needed to be straightening out and so it was his very first thing he did before he got on stage. The room went deathly silent as he takes the stage. "The portal draws energy directly from the warp. It's self-sustaining and mankind was not the creator. I suspect that several million years ago this planet supported life. At that time the warp was calm. So there was no harm in drawing energy from it. Now the energy is attracting demons and allowing them to cross over into a parallel dimension.

I don't believe, and this may be in error, that the chaos gods are just as clueless about the portal. You said it appeared quite recently. The portal wasn't created here. This ... how did you say ... alien laboratory must have created the portal. I believe that it would be possible to use Gellar Field to stall it out. Hopefully the idiots on the other side are wise enough not to activate it again. The problem is that the chaos gods are now well aware of our presence. What element of surprise we may have had is now lost."

...

Darth Vader looks on impatiently at the holographic study model drawn up by the imperial scientist who was currently talking. "Its power source is not in our universe but the device itself is."

'Vader, it's a powerful weapon, take it.' He wasn't sure if they were his thoughts. "We're waiting ..."

His mind is transfixed on a vision of a great beast standing before him speaking soothing words as if it was his friend. "I can help you save Padmé but you can't learn it from a Jedi." This great beast is the Emperor. A chorus of thousands of every changing mouths speak what he believes to be lies and deceit. It turns out to be his subconscious trying to warn him. His subconscious is at first quite, nothing more than a whisper. But now it was screaming, deafening, trying so hard to get his attention.

"If Padmé lives, he will not betray the republic or the Jedi. She must be eliminated." The beast is speaking again but it wasn't direct at him. "If I can manipulate his emotions, I can get him to kill her and none of this can be traced back to me. Then he's mine for all eternity." The beast reveals that its face was split in two. One side was burnt, twisted, and deformed. The other side looks like an old man with it's one eye like a mirrors reflecting the beasts internal thoughts. This time even the friendly side said, "I don't care about you Anakin, you're just a puppet like your precious democracy."

Obi-Wan Kenobi voices screams, "I trusted you!"

"Padmé is trying to breath," his subconscious screams. "Look what you're doing! You love her, is this how you treat the one you love?"

"Do it, with her death you become eternally my servant."

"No Vader," screams standing up and sending wave of force energy destroying the room and killing the scientist who was still speaking mid-sentence and everyone else attending the conference. Their broken bodies lay before him, crying out for help. Many of which were choking on their own blood only managing gurgling cries for help. He ignored them all because his purpose was clear, the beast must die.

"We must discover a way to close the gate. Vader ... take our most trusted men, as many star destroyers ..." the Emperor voice fades away.

A new voice whispers, "kill him ..." He hears Padme' wheezing gasps and he can't control his disgust or anger any longer.

Darth Vader lashes out with the force and snaps the Emperor's neck and he slumps dead on the floor. Once the initial shock and disgust had worn off, his first reaction is confusion. The Emperor didn't detect his attack? He should have been able to sense it coming, something stopped him. Something was happening to him that he didn't understand and that scared him. It didn't matter, the Emperor got what he deserved, tit for tot. The Emperor had always been destined to take Padme' place, it had been a long time coming but it finally happened.

"Now we can be together my love." He wasn't sure if he wished to see Padme' so badly that he was seeing what he wanted. But standing beside him was Padme' in the flesh. Not some phantom image or distant memory. He wasn't seeing her ghosts. She was real as he was, he could reach out and touch her nearly perfect skin.

"You're... alive? I avenged you."

"I know my love," she purrs with a voice sweet like honey "Now we can be together just like we always wanted." Vader's voice is choked from emotions welling up inside, his mind can't accept it. There is no reaction a man can have seeing a loved one suddenly alive. The walls he built decades ago to protect his mind from the horrible things he had done came crashing down. Somewhere deep down he knew it was a lie, he just didn't care. They were together at last.

"Yes," she says seductively "Now you can take your rightful place in the galaxy. You can finally united with your children and accept the voice in your heart."

"I do," he screams!

"Then destroy the Imperium." Her lips part into a devious smile.

No one wanted to take the task of protecting the technicians while they installed the Gellar field generators but they volunteered regardless. It was surely suicide because chaos inevitably would return and they would be on the front lines. Vowlune just wanted to join his brother in the great calling in the sky. What he didn't expect was Vader's forces invading. It didn't matter how he died, just that he died. Now he stood valiantly in the opening battle and upon the first shot screaming, "Why the hell did Vader betray us? Does he think we're responsible for the portal? Did he fall to chaos that weak minded fool or am I foolish to trust him?"

"I have no idea, Vowlune. I didn't like the looks of him from the start. All we need to worry about right now is making sure the Gellar field generators don't fall into enemy hands." It was spoken by Kazakh who had very uneasy look across his face.

Vowlune gives a reassuring nod to Damon, "you're in charge, what is your order?"

"We don't have time to debate the chain of command. I'm giving you a field commendation and putting you in charge of our force as well. The planet will fall into enemy hands if we don't stop them. Guerrilla tactics, we just got to by a little time. Reinforcements will arrive soon."

"Marines," Vowlune orders with a resounding bellow "Dig in and use the natural terrain to your advantage." He took cover behind what once had been a structure; it was a pile of rubble now. It did make a pretty good defensive position. The first waves were these strange men wearing white power-armor, except it wasn't power armor. It wasn't worth a damn; their rounds tore through them like toilet paper. Their weapons were just as terrible harmlessly bouncing off against their armor. The one thing they had going for them was numbers and lots of them. Their first wave completely covered the ground in a thick white blanket. Then the second wave appeared and through sheer attrition, they scored a few kills. One such kill was Markus. His armor was already smoking and crackling from hundreds of direct shots; it only took a few more before his armor gave out completely. Suddenly these massive two legged walkers appeared from within the portal. First few marine who fired at them found out the hard way that their bolters were infective. Yet the walker's weapons had no trouble gunning down a marine in a single shot. It proved to be the turning point.

It took minutes before the first responders hit the ground. It was almost an hour later before the most terrifying technological horror of the Imperium could be brought to bear. As the battle raged on, there was Vader in the center of it all waiting for something or someone. Damon saw this as an opportunity, "We should attack now while he is vulnerable."

"No," Vowlune say putting his fist up, "he is a puppet. He doesn't know what he is doing!"

"This is not the time for diplomacy Vowlune."

He shakes his head, "This is exactly the time. We lost enough men for one day. Maybe we can end this without further bloodshed."

At the portal entrance, Vader stood with his hands on his hip surveying the battlefield. Hundreds of space marines and thousands of Vader's troops lay slain upon the battlefield. Next to him was a destroyed land raider that was still smoking. He spots a broken and battered Damon charging him. The fool charges over open ground getting several more blaster bolts before closing in range. The fool put himself so off balance that Vader tosses him aside easily.

Damon felt his pulse quickens and adrenaline surging as he hit the ground hard. He had mange to roll as he made contact, quickly regaining his footing, and moving in to attack him. His attack cuts off the harsh laughter directed at him and two quick slashes force the cyborg back. It was looking good for him, with mere feet between them and his opponent disarmed. Even with the pounding in his ears and the adrenaline fog that was clouding his thoughts, he knew to be weary; his opponent was a master sorcerer. It was time to finish him, he guides his blade to the cyborg's throat but right before his blade makes contact, there was a strange movement that even his enhanced senses couldn't pick up. He blinks his eyes, confused, because it was impossible. The cyborg was holding a blade made of red energy that seems to hum and shimmer. Then his senses caught up with his mind, the cyborg had pulled out a small cylindrical device from his belt. His mind screams how could the cyborg's reflex be that good? No one is that fast!

He lunges again but the sword was caught and redirected causing him to lose his balance, barely able to prevent the counter attack. The heretic was making sport of the champion of over hundred campaigns. Every second was infuriating and it's was made even worse when Vader spoke to him as a teacher chastise the student. "You let your emotion cloud your judgement." What, did he expect better of him? The cyborg held no respect and continue to taunt him, as if he wasn't this man's equal. Space marine had no equals in combat. He would show him, out smarting him, make it seem like he was coming from the left but suddenly switch to the right and close in with a flurry of heavy jabs. He realized not only that his belief in his superiority was wrong, but that his plan had already been anticipated and he was walking right into a trap. The master had brought his blade down on the student's sword knocking it to the ground and burying it to the hilt in the dirt leaving him defenseless. When it was over, he wasn't sure how to react. Every move had been anticipated and at this rate, he was waiting for his opponent to take advantage of his weakness.

Vowlune couldn't just wait for Vader to kill Damon he had to act, which is what Vader wanted. The cyborg looks up, and upon seeing him approaching says, "I have been waiting for you, Vowlune." Oddly enough the cyborg's head was hung low in sorrow as he nudges a fallen storm trooper.

"What lies had chaos spun," Vowlune screams "Don't you see that you're standing over broken bodies. Why did they have to die Vader? What did you get from this, sending so many sons to early graves? Is this of enough war for you? Turn away from senseless destruction; nothing good can come of it."

"Your wrong," Vader sneers "They only speak the truth. It is we, who lie. The gods offer us truth; painful truth. The past can't be forgotten or forgiven. Now I must teach you a harsh lesson. The monks of our universe believed that the force had two sides: light and dark. Tzeentch has taught me there is no light or dark. It's pure with no alignment, no petty men or their beliefs. I will show you the true power of the force."

"When you're done all that will be left behind is ash and grieving families. If you chose this ruinous path, then you're truly dead. You doomed us to not only repeat this folly, but kill one another as well. One last pointless battle to end our pointless lives." Vowlune charges forward only to be caught by a blast of force lightning sending him tumbling to the ground.

Vowlune held back attempting diplomacy. For a person that grew up living and breathing violence, he always had to try diplomacy.

"I will split your thoughts open," Kazakh says rushing to Vowlune's aid and unleashes a psychic resonance. The blast had the capabilities of causing a man's head to explode or boil a man's brain, but Vader is no ordinary man. He reach out blocking the blow and with a wave of his hand sends the librarian tumbling.

"I will see you burn," Vader says irritated "the entire imperium burn."

Damon felt his heart stop as the heavy boot slams down on Kazakh's chest, knowing damn well that it had probably broken one of his friend's ribs and collapsing a lung for good measure. Unable to take it anymore, he screams out, "Vader this has to stop, I won't allow you to kill my battle brothers." He couldn't have foreseen his enemies next move, how Vader put that blade of light to his crippled friend's throat and held it mere inches away. Then he has the nerve to stand there silently, as if waiting for him to do something. "OK," he mutters "It's my turn. You want me to do something impressive." He wasn't going to disappoint him, not with his friend's life on the line. His next move is a blur as he retrieve his weapon, comes in fast and low, the hilt of his blade at chest level. The power sword release its energy staggering the sith and saving his friend's life. "You'll die this day Vader, I swear it."

The sith lord reposes himself and scoffs at his threat, "It's likely you will die this day. Unlikely you, I've already died once before." He lunges forward, light-saber meets the power sword and the resulting explosion knocks them both down.

Vader's body is stiff and rigid, atrophied from years of neglect. The hard metal and plastic were taxing on his old joints and servos. His movements were slow and sluggish like an old man. Every part of his body aches from enduring just a few minutes of combat. The new space marine got to his feet first, sure of his victory and drives the blade home. Even weakened and staggered, Vader was cable of reaching out with the force and catching the blade. Then he studies the hazy, blue-colored field of energy that wraps around the sword. Under normal circumstance, it was a well-constructed and completely safe weapon. But he didn't have to wait for the right circumstance to seize an opportunity. He uses the force to ruptures the ionizing polarization field embedded inside the energy matrix causing the power sword to explode in shower of sparks. The blast shatters his enemies' armor and completely destroying his weapon. Now his opponent was once again helpless and he was growing tired of this game. He was more than ready to kill his opponent, all of them. He wasn't concerned when he saw the hidden compartment open on the left side of his hip or when the man pulls out a strange pistol that softly glows blue as electricity arcs across its polished surface. Even the initial blast wasn't strong enough to penetrate his armor but it did shock him just how much it hurt. The pain rushes up through his body reminding him on how he ended up in this metal stasis suit. The distant memory of searing heat drives him into a rage and comes in with a sweeping blow decapitating Damon. The resulting anguish cries were like music to his ears. "It seems you'll die this day."

After initiating a full restart of all on board systems, Vowlune saw something tumbling through the air. The drop pod lands with a massive crash somewhere far off in the distance, but despite this, it didn't take long before they found out who or what had arrived.

"Is this the best you can muster metal man, abomination of circuits and wires, tin man?" Every time Darzhen strolled on to the battlefield weaning his own personal terminator armor and equipped with a force hammer and shield, he felt like a god. There was never a need to worry or to rush. Still he had to end this quickly because as long as chaos held this gate, no one was safe. This time though, he was bringing something a little different, more personal. A weapon like no other, his chapter ubiquitous unique signature weapon. The Bane of Psyker: a force hammer that fed off of the physic energies of Psykers becoming stronger in their presence and weakening them. It was a greatly feared and respected weapon. He moves in to flank his enemy from behind. Somehow the cyborg anticipate or senses this, he wasn't sure which. The force hammer crackles as it makes contact with the man's strange weapon. He notice the faint blue aura was fading fast despite being in the presence of psykers and being full charged before leaving the ship. This clever bastard was somehow disrupting the hammer's ability from a distance; a truly unique trick. He had to hand it to his enemy, he was a crafty one. Concentration was the key; he obviously had to focus to weaken the weapon.

Even with his weapon nearly drained, it had the power to crush the cyborgs armor, sever wires and damaged electronics. So caught off guard when the blow finally struck, the cyborg recoiled and lost concentration. He heard the weapon hum to life. This knight was now in a position to bring about deliverance to the dark lord of the sith, to end this once and for all, bringing true balance to the force. With the weapon at full power, he brought the weapon sweeping in with a vibrant hum and damaging the cyborg's life support. He was reward when the cyborg cries out an instant pain. "Sting doesn't it?" He raises his fully charged weapon over the head of his enemy preparing for the killing blow. But before he could bring it down on his enemy's head, he was hit telekinetically from behind by a piece of debris. Because he wasn't wearing a helmet, he ended up taking the full blow. The room began to spin as the ground rush up to greet him before his vision goes black. The only thing that saved him was the awkward angel of the light-saber thrust. Instead of penetrating his armor, it glanced off it. Darzehn vision returns with in seconds allowing him to see the next blow coming, but there was no way to fight it. He felt as a wave of energy passes threw him. Instantly he was in absolute agony. It felt like when you were a kid and you broke your arm but everywhere. He felt something wet leaking out from his ears and nose, but couldn't move his arms to see what was dripping. When he saw the droplets of crimson, he knew it was all over. He would die with dignity staring up at the heavens, swearing he could see his brothers staring down at him in his final moments. Of all the battles he fought throughout the cosmos, it all ended here to some cyborg. This less than human nothing finally ended his distinguishing career. 'Oh god' he thought 'Anna and the kids'. He wouldn't even get to see his kids grow up ... He felt inhuman grip around his throat and vision faded to black one final time. He never got to hear Vader's enraged words, "Your threaten me, call me a tin man. You're supposedly the best fighters in the entire galaxy? What are you called, angels of death? All too easy."

"We have fought the impossible," Vowlune says hitting the cyborg from behind with the force hammer and bringing the sith to his knees. "This is for all the space marines and all the innocent people you have killed robbing them of their lives." As the words left his mouth, he brought the hammer up high and crashing down on Vader's back. There was sharp screeching of metal on metal as the cyborg's suit begins to shut down. This had to be it, it had to be over. Then he felt his grip on the weapon loosening and some unseen force rips the weapon from his hands.

"Is this the best you got Vowlune? One of the greatest warrior of Imperium of mankind, champion of the Emperor of mankind and survivor of a massacre." Vowlune had enough of his boasting. Retrieving his weapon, he charges at him unleashing the full power of Bane force hammer, but was stopped mere inches by an intangible barrier. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy and the fact it wasn't just infuriated him. Vader was like a cockroach that just refused to die, always pulling out one more trick, one more way to escape justice.

With Vader badly injured and severely weakened struggling to maintain the barrier, Vowlune knew it wouldn't last long. The Hammer breaks through the barrier and connects with his enemy crushing the cyborg's chest plate and almost certainly mortally wounding him. It was time to end this; he readies the hammer for the final strike on the cyborg's exposed body. Suddenly the hammer veers off course and he is vulnerable. A heart beat later, he feels the searing blade plunge all the way to the hilt and he collapses to his knees. Vowlune stares down at his injury, blinking, seemingly unreal that this could happen to him. The cyborg was wounded, how was he the one to die? At least he would join his family and battle brothers in the afterlife; death wasn't so bad. The light saber winked out and fell to the ground silently.

Vader gave a laugh, "You think this is over? You underestimate me and you underestimate the chaos god. The last laugh will forever be mine ..." Vader body began to morph, limp growing long and lanky, body tore at the seams, neck stretches and his face becomes that of a bird."

"I am a daemon prince!" The words draw Vowlune back to the living from land of shadow and passing, to fight one last battle against a newly created daemon prince. He fought one before, but with back up and anti-daemon weapons. It was looking like this was going to be his last fight. He forces himself past the pain, forces himself to roll out of the way of those massive talons. He lashed out hitting the beast in its left knee. He heard a sound even over the storm hammer and the howl of the daemon prince. It was the sound of screaming after burners and missiles. The creature's chest exploded in a massive fire ball.

But when the smoke had cleared, the creature had survived. The beast prevents a second attack by conjuring a wall of fire that blinded the pilots causing them to crash to the ground. But they were only the vanguard element of a much larger response. The pilots gave their lives buying time for more men and equipment to arrive. Multiple incendiary rockets, fragmentation armor-piercing tank rounds from predator tanks, large artillery round, even multiple land raiders' twin-linked Lascannons. Under the combine assault Vader body couldn't retain his form and he reverted back. Finally defeating him but not managing to kill him. A voice whispers to Vader, "Do not despair Anakin, all is not lost. Come to me my love."

Under straining, dying breaths, he whispers back, "I'm coming my love." With what little strength he had left, he crawls through the portal disappearing ...

"Report," Vowlune orders under straining wheezing gasps. He is lying in a pool of his own blood in a charred field surrounded by an endless sea of wreckage and bodies.

"Remaining enemy forces have broken off, reserve land-raiders inbound carrying replacements Gellar field generators." The last thing he saw before the world began to fade to black was the field generator coming online and the portal winking out of existence a minute later. His last dying words, said at great cost and taking what little strength he had left, "Victory, but a costly one ..." These words were spoken alone, to never be heard and forgotten. But to Vowlune, it was his final victory and his way of getting the last laugh. He won, the angel of death always win, even when they lose, they win. These words would forever cement his victory, even in death.


End file.
